They stay a while and, when they disappear from your screen, leave offerings of silver fish or sometimes fancy gold ones as thanks (or payment? I find myself wondering if these cats are in fact exhibiting a unique understanding of currency). My first virtual visitor was aptly-named Snowball, pictured below. After a while, cats slowly begin to file in and happily settle down to snooze or play in your area, without the real-world problem of leaving poop everywhere. In the beginning you’re given an outside porch space where you lay down food to tempt in the moggies. This is where Neko Atsume comes in and satisfies my needs. In real life, then, it’s official that my dreams of becoming a full-time badass cat lady are not (yet) to be. I also have a grumpy landlord and a flatmate who despises anything with fur.

You have to understand that as a student living on a meagre budget – when I open my purse, especially after a weekend, flies buzz around the leather – I absolutely do not qualify as the kind of human being who could keep both myself and a cat alive for more than a few weeks without one of us trying to eat the other (with it being statistically more likely that dinner will be repas de fille). This April, when the otaku slice of the internet kindly introduced Japan’s latest cutesy virtual cat game, Neko Atsume, to western audiences, the feline enthusiast in me (which takes up approximately 75% of my overall personality) had a crazy, dancing-in-her-underpants kind of moment.

Rare cats in neko atsume game skinny